Starman -OR- Moogega
by ChimiWrites
Summary: Moogega Blue, a twenty-year-old author from Louisiana, is tired with her life. However, when she meets a strange man with a box that's bigger-on-the-inside, she feels as if, somehow, her life may be important. [12th Doctor/OC; First Story; May or May Not Continue.]


**NOTE:** **_This story features my semi-OC 12th Doctor. It was my first fanfiction, and I wrote this prior to _****_The Snowmen. _****_So, if anything in this fic counters any new canon, I'm terribly sorry. Rate and review, if you like. ~Chimi_**

* * *

Summer 2012, San Francisco, California.

"Thank you all for being here for being here today," Boomed the announcer, his voice resonating around the huge conference room, the sea of brightly costumed people cheering in response. "I am so honored to introduce our speaker today at this Comic-Con twenty-twelve! Please help me in welcoming the father of all comic book greatness, the Marvel-ous mastermind! It's the one, the only, mister Stan Lee!"

The twenty-year old, five-foot-two young woman named Moogega Blue rose from her seat, cheering and clapping. She beamed from ear to ear, her dark, forest green hair hidden beneath a curly pink wig. She had to be careful as she sat back down, so as to not damage her neon pink "tail" which completed her cosplay. She waved up towards the man who now stood at the podium, but then realized that she would be unrecognizable. She'd only spoken to the great Stan Lee once, and that was just in a letter about her book. It was amazing, someone who was that pronounced and mighty would read her dumb little novel, and even more so that person would send her a positive letter about it. She smiled to herself. As the man began to speak, his fun, lively personality bringing the best out of the entire audience, she loosened up a bit. If that goofy fellow up there liked her, she couldn't be all that bad.

* * *

After the event, she managed to push her way through the crowd of nerds and fanboys, with minimal recognitions and next to no pictures taken, out to the convention center's back exit. She sighed in relief, walking through the door, headed for her car. She didn't like big groups of people, she didn't like all the noise, and she really didn't like it when people knew just who she was. "Maybe," she muttered under her breath as she started her rented white Honda, "you should've thought about that before you wrote a book!" As she paid the fee and pulled out of the parking lot onto the busy interstate, she turned up the radio. "Thank you, Mr. Bowie," she said quietly, smiling. She felt more at ease.

_ …they ask her to focus on…_

She relaxed, slouching a bit, her grip on the steering wheel looser and more comfortable.

_..Sailors! Fighting in the dance hall…_

Taking the exit that would lead to the airport, she began to sing along.

_…Oh man! Look at those cavemen go…_

She glanced quickly at the car's display screen. It was around 6:15, she was making good time.

_…It's the freakiest show!..._

Moo sighed.

…_Is there life on Mars?_

"Is there life on Mars?"

* * *

Autumn 2013, New Orleans, Louisiana.

"Yes, mother."

As if preforming a balancing act in a circus, the girl sat poised on a barstool in front of her bathroom mirror. A hair dye comb, splattered with deep green in one hand, her home phone in the other, and a half-eaten banana nut muffin on the counter, Moogega rolled her eyes. "Of course mom. Yes, I _do _know that my birthday's coming up, big whoop-dee-do! Listen, I've got to go. I'm, uh, getting ready for a date." She pressed the red button, ending the call, and returning to the much more enjoyable process of reapplying the color to her hair. The small television in the living room of her single-bedroom condominium was blaring the theme song to a certain cartoon about friendship and colorful horses, and she rushed to get finished. After washing the color from her hands, she skipped across the living area in her plaid pajama pants and opened a window to try and let the ammonia-like smell out. She gazed outside for a moment, looking over the city she had learned to call home. The street performers' jazz filled the air, along with the rich smells of fresh seafood and such. The sun was out, but not overpowering, like a spotlight. No, this would be a good day. This would be a great day.

At about noon, she finally got around to changing into more acceptable clothing, (which, to her meant torn jeans, a faded Rolling Stones t-shirt, and her signature grey beanie and shades,) and headed down to Bourbon Street. To her, it and the surrounding streets always seemed just the place to find the most interesting people. Of course, she was next to unknown as an author here in the Big Easy, just the way she liked it. The noise of the streets was different from that of conventions or parties. It was always richer, and much more enjoyable than that. She stopped for a moment at a small store; "Abracadabra," that's what it was called. This was her favorite of them all.

Unlike all the other small stores which basically sold the exact same items, here she could find something to suit all her needs. The back wall of the store was riddled with comic books and graphic novels, and they were even selling a few copies of her book "Bad". No one would know she wrote it, however, with her sunglasses and hand-knitted hat. The rest of the merchandise was composed of a variety of graphic t-shirts, brightly colored boxes of candies, trinkets, toys, and, of course, a wide selection of Mardi Gras beads. As she made her way through the shop, she saw a small child, a boy, no older than six or seven staring longingly at a boxed action figure. But, as she took a step closer, she could see just what the figure was—a perfectly formed, exquisitely detailed miniature of the comic villain Magneto.

"Whoa…"

The boy looked up at her, seemingly expecting her to snatch the prized item off the shelf. And, she almost did. The boy's mother, standing beside the door of the small, dimly-lit store, called out to him that it was time for them to go. The child sighed, knowing from past situations that his mother would object to any pleas for something such as this. After all, at forty-two dollars, it wasn't anywhere close to cheap. He turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Moo found herself almost shouting as she grabbed the boxed figurine. She didn't even ask the boy's mother, which, in hindsight, was probably the proper thing to do. Instead, she practically sprinted to the cashier, shelling out fifty dollars' worth of ten and twenty dollar bills (About three years' worth of work, for her. Writing didn't pay too well.) Neglecting the change and receipt offered, she stepped back over to the child. Crouching down on her knees, she looked over the blue-eyed, blond-haired youth.

"Here," she said. "I think this is yours." The boy stood, speechless as he accepted the gift. No stranger, no matter how kind, spends fifty dollars on a child for the sake of a toy. No one, perhaps, besides Moogega Blue.

"Thanks…" he uttered timidly. "Do… Do you like Magneto, too..?"

"Yeah. He's cool, huh?" She smiled, still on her knees in order to face him.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Thank you, so so so so much..!" His eyes lit up, he beamed at her.

"No problem, little man. But, I think your mom's waiting on you…" Moo turned her head towards the door, the boy's mother standing there, a look of surprise on her face. The child nodded, expressed his gratitude one last time, and, with a skip in his step, headed over to his mom. As he waved goodbye, dragging his mother out into the bustling street, the young woman rose to her feet. She stood for a bit, letting the wave of joy rush through her. Then, she retrieved her change, and left the building.

Strolling joyously along the pavement, her jet black Converse thudding almost silently as she stepped, she continued on with her noontime walk. She whistled a tune, the name of which she couldn't quite remember at the moment. She strode past the dozens of people, the tourists, business owners, street performers. She glanced for a split second at each one, the thought of all the different personalities and opinions and such dazzling her. People had always amazed her. But, there was one, on that lovely, innocent fall day, one stranger out of the thousand around her. One who was on a level above the rest. One who truly amazed her.

* * *

"Hello!"

She nodded quickly, jamming her hands into her pants pockets. The man had been walking alongside her for a good five minutes now, even though she wasn't going anywhere in particular.

"Beautiful day today, innit?" The man inquired, his voice cheerful and a bit childish. She lowered her head a bit, though she didn't know why.

"Mhm..." she replied, picking up her pace by a hair.

"Say," he seemed not to notice her discomfort, carrying on, "aren't there a lot of plantations around here? I love a good plantation. Bit cruel, but I've had quite a few friends that live on plantations." He smiled, nodding slightly. "Let's go to a plantation, …eh... Didn't quite catch your name, did I?"

"My name's Moo. Moogega. Moogega Blue." She mumbled, stopping and turning to face the odd and eccentric male. He stood a good six feet, and quite thin, too. He looked healthy though, donning a grey fedora and a pin-stripe suit to match. His tie was distracting, being an almost fluorescent blue. She blinked, taken a bit aback by that. He wore a goofy grin, as if he had not a care in the world. She couldn't quite tell due to the hat, but his hair was raven black and quite unruly as it seemed. His eyes were a clear green, and, although he acted like he was the happiest man in the world, his eyes seemed tired and lonely, like he was running away from home. He looked… sad.

And, that was the moment she decided. If she could do one thing, just one thing to make this strange fellow's life a bit better, she would. After all, that's what happened with the little boy earlier.

"Alrighty then, Moo! Let's go to a plantation!" He kept his silly grin, looking hopefully at her.

She smiled back. "Let's."

She figured that the man was just some crazy tourist, perhaps he was on vacation. But, as they strolled towards the nearest tour bus stop, it was as if he knew this city like the back of his hand. It was a bit awkward, what with her not knowing this man in the slightest and all. It was relatively quiet for the two, even in the middle of New Orleans. Finally, it was the stranger who spoke up.

"I'm the Doctor, by the way."

She scoffed. "Doctor? Doctor who? …Are you a performer or something?" He shrugged, tilting his head from side to side.

"Ahh… Wouldn't say that…"

"Alright then, guess it's fair... We've got to wait for, oh," she whipped out her cell, only to jam it back into her pocket after checking the time. "I'd say about ten minutes." She leaned against the brick wall of the restaurant, conveniently located at the corner where the free tour bus would soon pull up.

"So, Moo-gega. That's a unique one, innit? What'd you graduate in?"

"Buying myself time. Why?"

"Ah, just making small talk. You have a job, then?"

"Uh… I write."

He cocked an eyebrow, peering at her. "Oh. I see. Nothing's wrong with writing, writing's good. Just ask Agatha Christie."

A few minutes passed, in complete silence.

"You know," he began. "Nothing beats the real thing." She turned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What? What do you mean?" The man grinned once again, taking her by the hand.

"I'll show you." She had just begun to pull back, but an instinct to tag along kicked in. As the Doctor led her back up the street, through the city, she followed right behind.

"Where are we going?" She almost shouted, trying to keep up.

"To a plantation!" Was his reply.

* * *

"Wha- What's through here?!"

Moo couldn't help but hold back a giggle as the Doctor dragged her into one of the small street shops. But, he wasn't quite dragging her along anymore. She followed him like a child without a second thought. She watched as he made his way through the store, running his hand from end to end of the left wall as he ran, the colorful strings of beads clinking together softly as he pulled them along. The young man working his shift at the cash register seemed not to mind as he swiftly pulled a loop of metallic blue ones from its rack, sending them flying up into the air and landing neatly around his neck.

"Hah!" He exclaimed, pushing open the room's back door. She followed him into the courtyard, which was somewhat run-down. The vines which grew along the back wall were in dire need of a trim, and the cobblestone walkways had been reduced to gravel. The Doctor twirled around and clapped once, an expression of absolute glee on his face. But, she could still see his eyes. His eyes were still sad.

"Now!" He exclaimed, startling her a bit. "Have I got something for you, Moo! That rhymes, doesn't it? Moo, you, hah!" He spun back around, almost skipping off to the far side of the courtyard. He gave a wide grin, and then yanked back a thick layer of ivy from what, at first glance, appeared to be some kind of box or even a small shack.

She stood, frozen for a few seconds. He did the same, but smiled at her all the while. She furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of the deep blue box, glancing for a moment at the bold, white letters of the word "Police".

"Am I under arrest or something..?" She asked, puzzled. The Doctor chuckled, shaking his head, pushing open the right door. She took a step forward.

"Well… Are you coming?" She nodded in response, stepping closer. He smiled knowingly as she peeked inside the tiny box, and gasped. She jumped back a bit, looking at him with curiosity and confusion. She peered back inside, only to hop back out and circle the perimeter of the seemingly small, wooden structure.

"It's…" She paused. The Doctor nodded, giving her a quick wink.

"It's not from around here..."

He seemed a bit taken back by her statement. "Okay," he spoke a bit slower now, "not exactly what I expected you to say, but…" He strode inside, taking her hand. She followed once again, awestruck as she entered.

"She's called the Tardis. Short for time and relative dimension in space." He explained. She gazed upward at the ceiling, which appeared to be a huge, glimmering map of the heavens. Each star, each point of light shone like a diamond, and the hundreds if not thousands of cloudy, brilliant galaxies swirled and rotated, as if they were the real things. In the center of the room was what appeared to be some sort of console table, filled with buttons and handles and lights and levers of every shape and color imaginable. There were also dozens of tiny lights; they were similar to the stars on the ceiling. A large screen hung from above the circular panel, its display empty for the moment. In the middle of all the controls rose a shining glass pillar, the center was what appeared to be a silver pump, adorned with carvings of jet black and shimmering opal. The surface beneath her feet seemed to be of polished chrome, but it was brighter than that. It formed a fine grate, covering a multitude of wires and tubes. She turned, facing another set of stairs which were of the same material. They lead up to what seemed to be a balcony which overlooked the room she was in. From what she could see, it was lined with dark bookshelves. There appeared to be more rooms past it. She gawked for a while, taking it all in. The Doctor watched her, smiling.

"Is this… Is this your home, Doctor?" She finally managed to speak up. He nodded, sighing.

"At least, it has been for a very long time now. My Tardis, my ship." She turned to face him, still in awe.

"This… This is amazing! Absolutely amazing!" She almost squealed, clapping. He chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly.

"I know."

"Now, I believe you were promised a trip?" He grinned, pulling a large lever, watching her as she nodded excitedly. "A trip in a time machine! A trip with Miss Moogega Blue!" He circled around the center console, turning knobs and punching buttons. She laughed aloud, losing her balance as the floor tilted and the air filled with the whooshing music of the Tardis.

"And you're used to this?!" She shouted, giggling hysterically as she attempted to steady herself, grabbing onto the railing that rose around the center of the room.

"Like a fish in the ocean!" He replied, grinning as always. "Or a fish in a lake! Or in a stream, or… Or…"

"Or… or a Pond…"

* * *

She blinked. But, before she could ask, the Doctor seemed to shake it off, programming codes into what looked somewhat like a computer monitor. She shrugged; it was probably nothing.

"So, are there other rooms? Like, up there?" She pointed towards the balcony.

"Ah, yes! We've got bathrooms! Bedrooms! Hallways! Library! Swimming pool, in the library! Sick bay! Closets! Pantry! Kitchen! More hallways! Gallery! Garden room! Storage! News room! Memory core! Great big empty room that would be considered a basement but actually isn't! And lots and lots and LOTS of hallways!" He did a little skip-and-a-hop, waving a hand around. She giggled.

"You'll have time to explore later. For now," the whooshing died down, and Moo figured they had landed. "For right now, let's see about that plantation!"

He strode back towards the blue framed door, pulling it open. When she followed him out, though, she didn't prepare herself for the view that lay before her.

"I… What?" She stuttered, confused. She stood facing an absolutely enormous, fenced-in white building. It was quite modern and geometric, with walls forming funny shapes and connecting in odd places. A light green trim lined the walls and roof, with a walkway of what seemed to be a solid steel sheet. She turned a full circle, seeing that they were, essentially, in the middle of nowhere. The ground beneath her feet was spongy and damp; each blade of grass shimmering with dewdrops. Despite the moisture on the ground, though, the sky was cloudless, and the air was bitter cold and dry. She shivered, not having dressed for anything like this.

"The Great China Plain. Year five thousand, six hundred and four A.D.. Oxygen plantation. Come on!" The Doctor said hurriedly, grabbing her hand and beginning to run towards the entrance. _Running, _she thought as he pulled her in the direction of the building. _He's always running… _

Instead of asking, she blurted, "Why do they have an oxygen plantation?"

"Well," Came his reply, without stopping or turning to face her. "All that trash catches up to you, wouldn't you think?" She tuned out the rest of his answer, seeing as he began to rant about the necessary gases for decomposition and produced by decomposition and carbon-something-or-other overload. She simply nodded as they approached the gate. He stopped then, looking directly up at what looked like a floating security camera.

"Why, hello there! Oh, aren't you a pretty one? Well then, how about just letting us—"

"Identify." The thing remarked, cutting him off. The Doctor shrugged, holding up a blank license-type paper. "Uh, Doctor…" She stopped short, shaking her head in dismissal. She would ask later. As for now, a small light beside the bot's lens had flashed green.

"Sending. Identification." It seemed to shut down for a second, but then followed up with "Identification. Accepted. Welcome. Mister. President. Enjoy. Your. Visit."

"'Mister President'?!" She narrowed her eyes at the Doctor. He grinned, shrugging as the gates opened. "Psychic paper isn't that brilliant? Hah! Bit of a joke there, I'll explain later, come on!" Then he started off once more.

The double-wide, green trimmed door opened automatically, revealing the bright and glassy interior. Moo didn't think it looked like a plantation, or even a factory for that matter, but, she was a quick learner, and by now she had learned not to expect anything normal. The floor seemed to be some sort of gleaming white tile, but it was all one piece, and not a spot or scratch on it. There were two spiraling staircases in the back, both of glass and brushed steel. The entire floor was divided into small rooms of glass; the numerous employees and scientists all dressed in crisp, spotless, identical lab coats, each occupied in their tasks. Then, she noticed something. She peered at one group of male and female personnel who were gathered around a glass box, she watched as they jotted down measurements and recorded whatever it was they saw in the seemingly empty cube.

"Doctor…" she whispered, tugging on his sleeve to distract him from the ceiling, which he seemed to be quite interested in. "Doctor… Those people…"

"Welcome to AirZone six-point-nine-three-zero, Mister President!" A cheery-looking young female bounded out of a corner office, the only room on the floor made out of something other than glass. The girl smiled, first nodding to the Doctor, then to Moo. She bowed, holding her glass clipboard against her chest. She was clearly not of Asian descent, her short red hair, ivory skin, Northern accent, and eyes of clear blue making that known.

"It's such an honor to see your face for the first time! And in person too, can you believe it?" She beamed, and Moo chuckled at her hyperactivity.

"And, this is the First Lady? Is that right?"

"NO." Moogega spoke loudly, taking a step away from the chuckling Doctor. She shook her head, palms up.

"I'm just his… Um, his…"

"Family keep. She's the family keep." Moo gave a soft sigh of relief, nodding, although she had no clue what a "family keep" even was.

"Sorry about her, she's a bit new to this." The Doctor shook his head slightly, _tsk_ing her.

"The poor thing, her first family died in the construction of the New Pacific. My wife was gracious enough to take her in." She huffed, crossing her arms. She kept from rolling her eyes, but sighed inwardly at his ridiculous tale. The other woman seemed to buy it, though, clutching her clipboard.

"Oh, dear. The ones with the backstories always take so much longer to cope. But a keep is a keep, correct? My mum had to get one when I was just a girl, I missed so many of my courses! But, matters aside, I'm called Patti, and I'll be giving you the tour, sir! Unless, of course, you or your keep would rather a male guide?" Moo nodded, and the Doctor backed her up. "Patti's" constant chatter was getting on her nerves.

"Very well Mister President, Keep."

"We prefer to call her miss Blue, if you don't mind. And, if I may ask, what style of perception filter do you use here?" The Doctor inquired. Moo had to think for a bit to work out the meaning of the term "perception filter", despite its definition being quite obvious.

"Ah! But of course! In addition, what an excellent question, sir! Just the kind of question you'd expect from the president of the New Unison! We use a type thirty-two B nine, which is a more cutting-edge variation of the standard Pocket thirty-two. Highly controlled by the government of New China, might I add. But, of course you already know that, sir!" The redhead nodded, flipping a small switch on the side of her clipboard.

"There we go! Is that more to your liking, miss Blue?"

Moo blinked. Was she supposed to look like that now...?

"Uh, yes. Much better, thanks…" Moo lied, forcing a smile.

Because, when Patti turned on the perception filter, nothing happened.

Moogega Blue was "perception-proof".

* * *

End: Chapter 1.


End file.
